ghafaith

[ghafaith]

sorry for the radio silence !   —   I think I’m gonna put this blog on a soft  semi-hiatus  of sorts.   😳    activity will be sporadic,   popping in every now  &  then to do replies and such.   hopefully knife-wife will return to me full-swing soon,   until then I can be found on  my multi !    love you all.   <3

[ghafaith]

sorry for the radio silence !   —   I think I’m gonna put this blog on a soft  semi-hiatus  of sorts.   😳    activity will be sporadic,   popping in every now  &  then to do replies and such.   hopefully knife-wife will return to me full-swing soon,   until then I can be found on  my multi !    love you all.   <3

[ghafaith]

sorry for the radio silence !   —   I think I’m gonna put this blog on a soft  semi-hiatus  of sorts.   😳    activity will be sporadic,   popping in every now  &  then to do replies and such.   hopefully knife-wife will return to me full-swing soon,   until then I can be found on  my multi !    love you all.   <3

[ghafaith]

sorry for the radio silence !   —   I think I’m gonna put this blog on a soft  semi-hiatus  of sorts.   😳    activity will be sporadic,   popping in every now  &  then to do replies and such.   hopefully knife-wife will return to me full-swing soon,   until then I can be found on  my multi !    love you all.   <3

[ghafaith]

The sun was out for once, and Inej had turned her face to it. Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbour wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world.

[ghafaith]

Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta Hai | Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi

[ghafaith]

How strangely both of us are perishing.

Rainer Maria Rilke, from Pietà (tr. by Edward Snow); New Poems, 1907 (via megairea)

[ghafaith]

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.

#FENIXBURNED : selective & private multimuse, featuring characters from literature, podcasts &  original work. ignited by flora ( she / her ), gmt +1

[ghafaith]

what about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls?                       we learn to hold our heads   as if we wear crowns.     we learn to  wring magic  from the ordinary.     that was how you survived  when you weren’t chosen,     when there was  no royal blood  in your veins. 

[ghafaith]

kyberborne​:

blood on her hands – not hers, probably – sweat on her skin, and dirt underneath her nails ; jyn holstered her truncheons as she navigated the twists and turns of the back-alleyways of ketterdam as she made her way back to inej. “ i was a bit busy trying not to die, ” she retorted offhandedly with a quirk of her brow. they’d gotten separated in the middle of the fight and though jyn had tried to make her way back to the other as quickly as possible, she’d been preoccupied. still, her jaw tightened in sympathy, in guilt of not responding quick enough to inej’s signs. “ c’mon – we gotta get out of here before more come looking. keep it together for a few more minutes, ghafa. ” 

the encounter had left her rattled,     a fight of three against one    &    while she managed to deal a good hand of  damage,     inej ultimately had to run for her life with the attackers right on her heel.     she had bought herself some time when she scaled up a wall   &   stayed hidden on the roof of a building,    till jyn had come along.    with her arrival,    some degree of calm returned,   caressed her nerves to ease    &    she looked up at jyn with gratitude.   the smarter decision would have been to leave inej stranded    &   cover for herself.    however,   jyn had showed up.     the timing may have been  off,   but better late than  never.      ❝    how many of them are there ?    ❞     she inquired,  releasing the triggers on her forearms so two of her knives slid into her palms.     ❝   do you think can we take them on ?    ❞

[ghafaith]

merchlings​:

he    instantly    regretted    opening    his    mouth    .    not    only    did    the    words    come    out    in    a    breathless    bout    but    he    thought    he    deserved    another    round    of    losing    to    the    wraith    for    the    way    he    let    his    voice    sound    so    fragile (    quivering    ,    either    from    exertion    or    his    own    weakness    ,    like    he    was    pleading    )    .    he    needed    to    get    up    .    he    would    have    to    make    his    arms    prop    his    weight    in    order    to    get    up    &&    his    legs    to    move    again    .    the    pounding    in    his    head    concentrated    at    the    back    &&    he    realised    his    brain    must    have    been    so    rattled    against    his    skull    from    all    the    tumbles    he’d    taken    that    he’d    need    an    ice    pack    and    a    long    slumber    to    get    rid    of    it    .    or    a    healer    ,    if    possible    .    but    inej    was    heading    his    way    now    &&    all    he    could    think    about    was    that    she’d    help    him    up    &&    announce    that    their    training    session    was    over    .    she    did    not    .    instead    ,    wylan    found    himself    pinned    face-down    against    the    floor    &&    (    yet    again    )    pain    shot    through    his    shoulder    and    down    through    arm    as    the    spider    twisted    it    .    all    that    his    body    still    had    in    it    for    was    just    a    frail    whimper    .    when    she    let    go    of    him    ,    air    flooded    his    lungs    at    long    last    .    he    looked    at    the    extended    hand    &&    thought    that    he    could    take    it    .    somehow    ,    he’d    muster    enough    strength    to    pull    her    down    to    the    ground    &&    give    himself    enough    time    to    push    himself    to    his    feet    .    wylan    eyed    one    of    her    knives    .    would    he    even    be    fast    enough    to    grab    one    without    the    wraith    cutting    him    short?    it    didn’t    matter    .    inej    was    right    .    no    one    would    let    him    live    long    enough    to    help    him    up    so    whatever    attack    he    was    contemplating    was    nullified    either    way    .    he    took    her    hand    and    let    himself    be    pulled    to    his    feet    .    ❝            i’ll    fight    .            ❞        

when he took her hand and righted himself,    she took a moment to consider him.      the disheveled clothes,    the bruises  starting to form on his face,    the exhaustion in the blue eyes   —   a pang of pity jabbed her right where the heart would be.   she had taught him that the barrel wouldn’t be kind,    but did that mean  she wouldn’t be either?     there was a fire in the boy that burned as bright as his hair,      &    she could see that just when he agreed to continue.     dark eyes glinted with pride.    wylan may have  a long way  to go,      but he was determined to  not give up.       it was a good place to  start,     and maybe that was  enough  for the day.       ❝    that’s good,  wylan.    that’s very good.    ❞     inej said,    gently rubbing his shoulder,   the spot where the arm would have  detached  from its socket if she had gone  a little further  with her grip only minutes ago.   she made a mental note to teach wylan this  and more  in the upcoming lessons.      ❝    let’s call it a day.    ❞    she reached for  her knives  set aside on the table,   tucking them into their sheaths  one by one  on her person,    mumbling the name of each saint they were named after.    once the brass knuckles were returned to her right hip pocket,    she would have turned on her heel,     leapt over the bannister    &   vanished.     but the day was over,    and she didn’t need to be  the wraith  anymore.    so inej turned to him    &    asked,      ❝    are you hungry?    ❞

[ghafaith]

warnsyou​:

❛  do i look like a jester to you?  i’m not acting.  ❜   kaz brekker was the wraith’s unmoving mirror.  when she struck her fist against the table,  when she made the sturdy floorboard rattle and the skies outside weep against the planes of a dirty window,  he stood unblinking into the flames of her fury.  kaz’s stare was bleak in comparison,  void of the same sprite of a soul that inej seemed to have.  he yanked back his chair and dropped with a thump,  extended his bad leg for a bit of relief,   and pressed the head of his raven cane to his chest.  there,  he put his chin to a press over it’s protruding peak.  it was underwhelming to compare his eyes to dark coffee.  kaz brekker was twice as bitter and without caffeinated results.

❛  you weren’t this worked up when we went to the ice court.  did the merchling’s cushions and sweet rolls make you complacent?  ❜   he wasn’t wearing his gloves.  it made it easier to dig his finger into the new,  tidy slab of his desk.  the desk he’d had only for a few months now that per haskell was gone.  kaz extended the beak of his cane,  lifted his chin.  he tapped its body against the table,  turned its gold-studded eyes to judge inej.   ❛  because i sure as shit didn’t put that lump in your throat,  inej.  ❜

she would have flipped the desk over his head,    if it wasn’t twice her weight.    but more importantly,  it was kaz’s  gloveless hands  that diverted her rage   &    gave way to  curiosity.     it was still a sight so strange,  so rare,   that inej could not tear her eyes away from it—   gaze flickered from  void of his eyes  to snatching up the details of the bare skin of his hands.   trickster hands.   pale,  slender fingers of a  lock-picker.    the shiny rope of scar tissue that ran across his knuckle.     she gulped,   redirecting her focus to him and the sharpness of his words.     ❝    forgive me,   I didn’t realise being  a fool  had started coming naturally to you.    ❞

inej pushed herself off the chair   &   made her way to the window,    scanning the dark skies outside.     water poured relentlessly against the glass pane,   dousing the flames of her fury.   why was she here?   some naive part of her had thought kaz would consider her doubts,    her worry,   and reject the job.     she wanted him to  assure her  that nothing would go awry.   but he’d never been one to make false promises—    then why had she expected that of him?     kaz’s voice,  stone-on-stone,   pulled her out of the thoughts piling up inside her head    &    made her turn to face him.     ❝   —and I almost died when we went to the ice court.     I’m not complacent,  kaz,   I’m careful.    unlike you,   I don’t have nine lives to spare.   ❞    she replied,    anger replaced by  exhaustion.    the voice of someone who’d fought  enough times  to know that no one could win against  dirtyhands.   inej glided over to the edge of his desk again,    fingertips trailing over the spot she’d almost cracked.     ❝    I know I cannot stop you.    ❞      she sighed.     ❝    so tell me,  what can I do?    ❞

[ghafaith]

feygana​:

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙷 𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷'𝚂 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙽.   fresh logs crackled and sent a hollow roar that rang around the hanging cauldron’s girth like a sorrowful bell.  satisfied with her work, the woman dusted off her rail-thin fingers and stood to greet her guest.   surrounded by the silence honey-gold room, both wore a mask of defense,  the truth hidden from view.   

❝   strange how this house seems prone to housing those with no better place to be.  now show me your hands.  ❞     an odd request, but no more shocking than the little groan that came from the animal curled up in the corner. a little dog      no, a bear?     ❝   your hands.  ❞

beware of what lurks in the dark.     fingers curled into tight fists behind her back,    warily  peering at the woman.      ❝    why ?    ❞      the cauldron hissed   &   gurgled,   but what caught inej’s attention was another sound            she couldn’t quite tell what it was,   only that it was the  whimper  of an animal.      (  what had she gotten herself into ?   )         

when the cold rush of wind sent a shiver down inej’s spine,    the fireside answered.    the warmth was comforting,   and she knew  her saints  would be watching over her.     the request was odd,  but she had stepped into  a stranger’s home  and by the virtue of  common courtesy,   she had to oblige   &   meet the woman’s demands               regardless of how  strange  they were.    slowly,    she extended her  calloused, dirt-laden hands  forward.  

[ghafaith]

[ghafaith]

maybe ...  MAYBE ... someone is returning...

[ghafaith]

[ghafaith]